


The American Dream

by TheLostSpade



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Alexei (Stranger Things) Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chapters are named after songs, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Everybody Lives, M/M, Murray's mother is a 5'0 Dynamite jewish bitch, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, She's Amazing, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved, period-typical xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2020-10-17 00:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20612099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostSpade/pseuds/TheLostSpade
Summary: Murray isn't sure he can do this.Murray did not see himself forming close relations at this stage in his life and he didn’t enjoy the idea of being in love. Yea sure he loved his mom and his sister but he’d never done well with LOVE love.Murray also didn't like sharing. You could ask his mother and she’d list of a hundred different times she’d had to force whatever out his hands and into his sisters.So why was this man sitting on his couch, eating his canned peaches while he watched reruns of the brady bunch? He had no fucking clue





	1. Top Of The World - Carpenters

Murray did not see himself forming close relationships at this stage in his life and did not enjoy the idea of being in love. He loved his mom and his sister dearly of course, but Romance was just not his forte.

In middle school, his friends gathered playground sweethearts like he collected marbles. And in highschool it only got worse. The incessant whining and neediness, the looks that screamed “if you touch me I might puke.” He hated it then and he hated it now. Young couples only served as a reminder of his own crushes and what a sweaty mess they’d made of him. Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers were a different story, He’d had fun with that one, but it still left him feeling somewhat bitter after their departure. So no, relationships were not high on his list.

Murray did not like sharing. Ask his mother, she’d tell you all about the countless times he’d made his sister cry over measly childhood toys. He’d made borders on his desk with tape after Cheryl C. took a pencil from his pencil bin. Get your own pencil Cheryl C.

So no, he'd never expected that he'd have a roommate.

All in all, he wasn’t a people person. He was a pessimistic shut in who fully believed that the government was full of shit. He’d gotten into writing at a young age after being praised by his father on a school’s writing contest entry and he’d taken that talent and pursued journalism. However investigative journalism proved hard, even with his unwavering passion for finding the gritty truth. Russians, mind controlling video games, ominous men in neat black suits, Chicago just hadn’t been ready for him and “stories”. At least that's what his mother told him after they “let him go.” …

What a lovely word for _fired._

Fired after coming so close to the truth. He knew there were things that America hid behind its giant patriotic curtain. Which is why the vindication he felt was unmatchable when Jim Hopper showed up on his doorstep with living breathing proof of that undeniable Russian presence in America….

‘FUCK YOU CHICAGO SUN’ blared in his head when he’d finally had a moment to rest. With this proof he could finally prove to Ruth and mother that he’d been right all along and;

and then shit hit the fan and people got shot. But everything worked out in the end!

After some thorough re-locking of his doors and the changing of his landline, his warehouse felt safe enough to live in again. He could just go back to living in solitude, drop off the grid for the next forty years and live off of vodka and canned food till he turned grey and died of a paranoia related heart attack. That was the plan.

So why was the “Russian Presence” sitting on his couch, eating his canned peaches while they watched reruns of The Brady Bunch? Who’s to say?

Confidently and with all bases covered, Murray could confidently say that this was not what he pictured his midlife crisis would feature. But he could imagine what would have happened had he left Alexei at the hospital that night. He didn’t want to think about it at the moment. Not only that but despite only spending such a short amount of time together, Alexei had warmed his way into Murray’s heart. Not that he would say it out loud. _Not that Alexei would understand him should he accidentally speak out loud. _

So now they’re both sitting here. He was quickly and roughly translating how Jan was learning a lesson about making promises she couldn’t keep. And Alexei was watching the TV intently and making a face whenever the laugh track played.

Speaking of the man, While he always enjoyed the occasional Looney Toons cartoon, he’d recently taken to an exploration of America’s mind numbing favourite: family sitcoms. Full House, Three’s Company, Punky Brewster, and now The Brady Bunch. All of them saccharinely sweet and fake. All of which featured the daily lives of some plucky kids and their exhausted parents, the latter of which he could now identify with at the least.

Alexei certainly had a sweet tooth since he ate all the comedy characters and wacky scenarios up like cotton candy. And although some of the jokes didn’t land, due to being lost in translation or an unknown cultural reference, he loved it all the same. He also had an affinity for actual sugary food but that was something else entirely. By miracle, Murray had actually begun to like the sugary cereals Alexei ate.

It was funny, the man had a way of lighting up the usually low light home Murray had made for himself. And as tiring as he could be sometimes, Murray enjoyed having him around. He’d told Alexei he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted and so far he hadn’t shown any desire to leave.

Not that Murray was complaining.

There was a low giggle beside him which broke him from his monologue of thoughts. He looked over to see Alexei digging around the can for the last slice of peach as hijinks ensued on the TV screen. Damn, he needed to go buy some more peaches soon.


	2. Time Don't Run Out On Me - Anne Murray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [One month after Star court]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *also a quick note that if dialogue is ~italicized~ than its in Russian!

The alarm clock blared at him, sun peeking through the blinds.

It woke him softly and he opened his eyes to the gentle glow. Murray blinked and shifted himself slightly, closing his eyes. He could fall asleep again, just like this.

And then the kettle screamed and reminded him of his new friend, now roommate.

“Okay ...up, up, up.” He turned over to switch the lamp on and picked up his glasses. 

Get dressed, brush teeth, take a piss and squint at himself slightly at the mirror. His morning routine was simple, though recently the list had expanded to enjoying a cup of whatever with Alexei.

Speaking of Alexei, he watched the man make his way toward the table from the kitchen, stirring his freshly brewed tea as he went. It smelled like Orange Pekoe.

“_ Good morning! _” He interrupted himself with a yawn. He could still smell the mint on his breath. God he wanted a coffee.

“_ Ah good morning! I helped myself to some tea. I hope this is ok? _”

Alexei had turned out to be an impeccable guest for the time he’d been there. Always incredibly polite and despite Murray’s many assurances, he was still scared to take food from the fridge with asking first. ’_ What's mine is yours! _’ is what Murray had said, but he honestly wasn’t sure if Alexei would ever accept it. He also rarely ate breakfast which worried Murray a bit but Alexei assured him that it was purely cultural differences

“_ No no! Help yourself! I hope you found everything ok? _” 

“_ Yes!.. _”

The morning chit chat was awkward due to him still being half asleep but he had a feeling Alexei had been up since the crack of dawn by his upbeat demeanor. Murray walked toward the counter and grabbed a bag of bread.

“_ Toast? _”

“_ Yes please! _” He put two slices of bread into the toaster and walked around the kitchen island to grab a butter knife. Peering over to the table he saw Alexei sipping his black tea, book in hand. Could he even read it?

The toaster dinged and he sauntered over to collect their breakfast, foregoing a paper napkin to protect his fingers. He felt like he was playing hot potato as he picked up the toast and he could instantly hear his sister telling him ‘_ I told you so _.’ Plating the slightly burnt toast he carried it over to the table with a small jar of jam. Raspberry, thankfully.

“_ Thank you very much. _” Looking at the book, it was something by Ernest Hemingway and miles ahead of Alexei’s assumed reading level. But who knows? Maybe he was just bad at speaking the language. 

Turning a page, Alexei looked up and caught his glance. Offering a polite smile and held up the book.

“_ I figured I’d catch up on my English. I was never good at it in school but there are small words that I know. _” He turned the book to show the current page. 

“_ Yes sir. _ ” he read the word aloud and then a couple others. “ _ Blue, from, hello. _” 

All the words were choppy and accented but it was something. The fact that he was trying at all when there were only books like these to read was impressive to Murray and he felt bad he didn’t have anything to actually help him learn.

“_ you’re trying to learn English? _”

“_ I might as well.. It's not as if I can rely on you forever _” He put the book down and resumed drinking his hot drink. And he was right. When Alexei finally decided to leave, it wouldn’t be possible to go anywhere with no English. America wasn’t kind to people who were different and Murray knew that all too well. Alexei would have to work hard if he wanted to reintegrate into society. But first..

“_ how is the uh…. _” Murray gestured toward his own chest. He knew the subject was a little touchy for Alexei. The man was still recovering and while he wasn’t restricted to a bed anymore, he still had a strict self care routine. Murray hated seeing the occasional grimace after the man laughed and he never thought he’d have to help a friend practice walking. 

“ _ mhh..It’s alright. _” Alexei looked down into his tea and took another sip, picking up his book and burrowing himself into it. Yeah, he wasn’t happy with that question.

Alexei had been severely lucky that day. The bullet had just barely missed his liver. he’d nearly bled out at the fair. They’d been even more lucky that that bastard Kline had hired one of those firetruck and safety shows. They’d whisked him away to the hospital in no time flat and he’d ended up staying there for 2 weeks before Murray was allowed to collect him. 

They’d given him a document listing Alexei’s care instructions and sent them on their way. Thankfully not asking too many questions about the language barrier. Poor Alexei had still been woozy and confused from the drugs they’d given him and he was out like a light the minute his face touched the pillow. It would have been kinda cute had Murray’s guilt not eaten away at him. 

  
“_ I might take a shower today.. _” The subject of his thoughts sounded grumpy when he spoke. He’d finished his toast and was wiping the crumbs from his shirt. One of Murray’s own shirts that he had thrown into a box labelled “Alexei” 2 weeks into the man’s hospital stay. Joyce had lovingly donated some of Jim’s and Jonathan’s clothes into the box, the latter of which turned out to be too small. Mostly. 

The reason for the man’s grumpiness wasn’t unknown to Murray and while he loved helping the man, neither of them enjoyed the thought of Alexei showering. This was because it was discovered very early on in his stay that Alexei could not clean his own back, abdominal pain was intense anytime he tried to reach around and he’d stiffened up quite a bit during his stay in the hospital. But nevertheless, the scarred skin still needed to remain clean. So Murray was tasked with helping wash the exit wound area which proved to be VERY difficult because every time Murray looked at it he wanted to vomit. Stitches were not something he enjoyed looking at and despite how much he did want to help him, he wasn’t sure how many more times he could stand Alexei’s constant complaints. 

It wasn’t as though he wasn’t sympathetic to his woes. He understood how revealing and embarrassing it must be to trust a stranger to wash your back. As much as their were friends, they were still exactly that: strangers.

He had no idea where in Russia Alexei was from. He didn’t know if he had family back home or if he’d volunteered to be apart of the Starcourt project. He had no idea who Alexei was and Alexei didn’t know anything about him. Although he was pretty sure that was a good thing. The man was a genius and despite how Murray tended to keep to himself, he wasn’t sure how long it would be until Alexei realized what a weird guy he was. 

Maybe they were both weird. That would be nice. 

  
“_ Murray?..Its ok if you don’t want to help. I think I can do it own my own. _” Alexei looked at him inquisitively and he realized he’d been too absorbed in his own thoughts.

“ Shit. uh-yeah_ I can ..uh help with that. _” he smiled at Alexei hoping that it would get the man's eyes off of him. Alexei nodded and stood up, walking the book back to the shelf it had come from. Now for the dishes.

Murray got up and washed the dishes quickly before putting a cup of coffee on. He still wasn’t completely awake and though he wasn’t planning on anything in particular today, he did need to be clear headed to help Alexei. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the secound chapter! starting here we'll be taking things more linearly starting with Alexei's first couple weeks at Murray's warehouse. Thank you again to everyone who read or is reading this fic!


	3. So Far Away - Carole King

Alexei decided that he was definitely clean enough because he could no longer stand being in the bathroom with Murray. Mostly because, having said this with the most literal sense of the phrase, he could no longer stand in the bathroom. It was far too hot for his liking now and the steam made him lightheaded. 

He turned the faucet off with one hand and held onto the recessed soap dish with the other. As he let the water stop he heard the door open and close. He let out a tense breath after Murray left. He was grateful to have Murray help but he hadn’t showered with anyone else since he was a child sharing a bath with his mother.

“...”

He stepped carefully out onto the bath mat. Its little fabric fuzz felt nice on his toes, a little piece of heaven after living in that concrete shithole. Not that Murray’s warehouse was a shithole. The base hadn’t been shit _because_ it was concrete, but it hadn’t helped.

Grabbing a towel he dried himself off, making sure to be careful with his sutures and then letting the cloth fall over his shoulders. He faced away from the mirror while he dressed. He knew if he looked, he’d just start nitpicking. 

The fresh air from outside the bathroom felt heavenly and he let himself enjoy it. He heard Murray walking down the hall from his bedroom. He opened his eyes as the footsteps stopped and saw his cane held out in front of him. Ah yes. His cane. 

“_ Thank you. _” He didn’t mean to sound so disgruntled but he found himself becoming quite rude these days. Apparently, the doctors had told Murray that feelings of frustration were quite common in this situation. Still the knowledge did nothing to make him feel any better about it. Murray was one of the few friends he had in America and he did not deserve to be treated so unkindly after going out of his way to help him. He would do better. 

“_ I’ll be in the study if you need me. _” Murray said this as he walked down the stairs and while he knew the man wasn’t looking at him, he gave a nod in response and followed after him. Though his destination was different.

Sometimes getting down the stairs could be a nightmare. And even though he didn’t really need Murray’s help anymore, he knew today would be difficult.

“_ Murray? _”

“_ Hm? _”

“_ I'm sorry, it is more difficult getting down today. Could you?.. _”

“_ Of course! _” The staircase was narrow but there was enough room for Murray to scoop an arm under his shoulder from the stair below. They descended the stairs at a slow pace. He kept his back as straight as he could and Murray held his cane for him. The action made his ears hot but he supposed he would’ve felt more embarrassed had he gotten stuck in the stairwell. Oh well. 

“_ I’ll probably see you before sundown because this guy is definitely cheating on his wife but just in case, there's a microwave pasta in the freezer if you get hungry! _” 

The bellowing Murray disappeared behind a corner and Alexei sent a smile in his direction. He would definitely take the man up on the offer. Murray often complained that microwave food was unhealthy and bland. And Alexei wouldn't disagree that the food was definitely missing something. Most often they put different spices in or on top before settling down to watch television. It was routine,

_ -thwpt- _

His cane snagged on a cord and he stumbled forward before catching his hand on the sofa. His knuckles were tight as he gripped the sofa for support. But this was not because of the pain. 

“_ You okay? _” Murray shouted from the other room and he heard the wheels from his swivel chair sliding across the ground.

“_ ..Yes. _” He’d dropped the cane and while it made him ache significantly, he could only ignore it and continued folding himself downward to pick it back up. Stupid thing

He wanted to throw the cane and run. Nowhere in particular but he just wanted to run again, or move in some significant way that could prove to himself that he wasn't broken for good. He used to savor every walk he took in Moscow. The city new and foreign to him at the time. But now _ everything _ was new and foreign and he wanted nothing more than to run away from it all. 

But now all he could do is hobble. His palm sore from gripping the walking stick all the time. Do you know who walked with a cane? His grandfather. His grandfather who was frail and spoke rarely of anything happy. 

He had often been compared in looks to his grandfather, which as a child frustrated him because he had just figured that the man had always been old and sad looking. He had no concept that adults could have been young like he had been. So, he was not eager to become like Matvei.

He’d grabbed a book on the way to the couch and flipped it open, the alien language comforting him. Distracting him. It was confusing, but the kind of confusing that he enjoyed. Like a puzzle. He just needed to make an answer key to go along with it.

He knew words which meant he could sound things out, provided they contained most of the same letters. He had already worked out a few.

B was Б

E would sound similar to И

And Y was E, which was confusing.

It was easy enough. But what was this ‘th?' what sound was this supposed to make?? He’d read it before but had gotten into the habit of slurring his speech whenever he encountered it. He would make a note to ask Murray about it later.

With his limited knowledge, he wrote his answer key. Writing down the different letters he encountered, he built a little alphabet in his notebook. Damn, he missed reading. Sometimes his puzzles felt more like deciphering a crazy man's writing.

Rubbing his temples he put the books down. He needed a break. Perhaps he’d do some exercising..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3! I had fun writing this from Alexei's POV (as the occasional future chapter will be from his eyes.) 
> 
> Thank you again for reading! please leave a comment or a kudos if you can as it helps keep the inspiration flowing <3


	4. Two Doors Down - Dolly Parton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK. this chapter is supes short so im sorry but i got a heavy block so im hoping by just getting this chapter out that i can move a bit free-er now?

There was something unnerving about the head looking over his shoulder. Murray wasn’t used to working with an audience. Usually clues took a while to sort so he couldn’t imagine this was thrilling to watch and unlike those cheesy CSI shows, he couldn’t deduce shit from a misplaced piece of hair.

He pinned a photo onto the wall, sitting it against dozens of sticky notes.

“_Mmmmhhh.._” There was a hum from the couch. Putting his hands on his hips he turned to face the disruption.

“_Yes?_” A curly head turned to meet his gaze, hand supporting his chin. Alexei eyebrows were raised in questions before lightly shaking his head.

“_Nothing just….. Thinking._” Ah. Just thinking. He resumed his gaze to the cork board before- ah!

A missed connection! Another clue waiting to be stabbed by little red pins. Grabbing the spool of yarn he cut a line and tied it from pin to pin.

_Nice. _

“_.....mhmmmmmmm._”

“_What? What am I doing wrong now._” Murray only had so much patience and god did this man test it. If Alexei kept this up he’d have to boot him out.

“_Nothing is wrong! But..why not blue?_” head tilted to the side, he inspected the board.

“_I'm sorry?_” Despite being a self proclaimed detective, looking between the board and Alexei didn’t make him any less confused.

Alexei shifted on the couch and propped himself up to his feet. Taking a step forward toward the wall he brought a hand down to the small ball of yarn Murray had just cut.

“_The yarn. Why do people always use red? It is such an angry colour, why not green or blue? Because it's the colour of blood?_”

“_I don’t know? Euhhhh…. I don’t know, you just do._”

“_Another American mystery?_” there was a hidden playfulness in his voice. Consequently, this was also a sound of progress being made. Good progress. Murray scoffed back.

“Well... _next time I hit up Micheal’s sale bin, I’ll keep an eye out for blue._” He saw a smile grow on Alexei’s face and turned to grab some more finished sticky notes.

“_Who is Micheal?_” Murray felt a pull in his gut as he laughed. Turning back he watched as Alexei taped a 4th piece of identical red string to the side of the desk, preparing them for quick use.

Murray had never considered having an assistant but this? This was kinda nice.

“_So what is this section about?_” Alexei sat against the side table, gesturing toward a small corner of the board. He wondered if it would be bad to talk work. There was a confidentiality agreement that he signed with all his clients.. but it wasn’t like Alexei could tell anyone? Fuck it.

“_Thats_ _Ethel Shaw_”

Alexei looked like he was going to say something and then had a look of hesitation.

“_Who is... ....Who is she?_” The hesitation was noted, but nevertheless he continued anyway.

“_She’s a friend of the client. She works near the construction site that Larry works at. She’s somewhat of the uh, catalyst for this case._” Ethel seemed catty and from the phone calls he’d had with her, he was not excited for their meeting on tuesday.

“_So you think Larry is having an affair with..Ezul._” hand on hip, Alexei put the roll of yarn down. A forced air confidence (and slight worry) gleamed through his eyes.

“_No no._ Ethel-”

oh it was the ‘th’ wasn’t it?

“_Uh Mrs. Shaw was the one who told Marriane about the affair...That's an interesting take though_.” As nice as it all had been, Murray was losing focus and time. He’d have to think about what Alexei could help with. Anything written would be hard but maybe just sending him after a keyword would help.

Now. Back to business.

Now, Larry‘s been telling his wife that his shift goes from 7:00 AM to 7:00 PM but Ethel said she’s seen him leaving at 6:00 PM or even 5:00. So the question right now is, Where is he going?

Murray had gotten as far as he could with phone calls. He was going to have to take a trip soon. But with that comes the issue of Alexei. He was going to have to get comfortable being home all day by himself and that was a little worrying. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Alexei in his house, he was already here for fuck’s sake. But he’d started to notice some worrying behaviour from Alexei whenever he’d come back from the long hours in the study. Murray was familiar with the art of pacing out of frustration but watching Alexei do it when he left his study for a snack had been kind of alarming. It wasn’t a quick, angry pace but a slow and constipated pacing. Almost in a state of daze. He hadn’t even noticed Murray emerge from the study, just staring down towards the floor. It was hard to watch and he’d quickly asked if the man wanted to join him for a bite.

Alexei had already expressed a want for a little freedom and he understood the need. He was a grown man being confined to some cold warehouse in Illinois. But it was still too early to just let him walk out by himself. No, if Alexei wanted to go outside then Murray had to accompany him. Maybe a trip into town was due..

They could get groceries and clothes and he could do something on his work to do list.

“_How do you feel about a trip to_ _chicago_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I”VE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG  
YET THE QUARANTINE RESURRECTS ME
> 
> That aside, i actually just started prozac so my ability to actually have focused writing sesh is back!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is my first fic on here and actually my first fic since like...2016! so I'm excited to share this with all of you! I have a whole novel planned out for this but well see how it goes haha.
> 
> It would mean the world if you could leave a comment or a like to let me know how I'm doing! constructive criticism is VERY welcome ;)
> 
> Thank you!!


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